


Shelby Household Manor

by ColorZPrincezZ



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Charlie is an angel, Embarrased Reader, Gen, Gun Violence, Intent of Kidnapping, M/M, Mention of guns, Sad background stories, Soft Tommy, Teased Reader, The Shelby Family teases the Reader, Tommy in glasses, Tommy is bold, Tommy is pleased and proud of Reader, Tommy is worried for Reader, after season 5 I needed for Tommy to trust somebody, and still so Soft, but also our reader, but not really, but not violence, but nothing to graphic, fluff for no reason, kind off, mention of suicide, mention of violence, shy reader, so now I gave him a friend, someone gets shot, unnecessary fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24583291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorZPrincezZ/pseuds/ColorZPrincezZ
Summary: Little scenes lived inside of the Shelby’s household manor.
Relationships: Thomas Shelby/Male Reader, Tommy Shelby/Male Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My heart is broken after season five so naturally I try to write something soft and almost sweet to make me feel better.

_ Shelby Household Manor _

**_ The Servant _ **

—1—

Working at the manor was a surprise. The boy himself never imagined he would be taken seriously, specially regarding the job he was meant for; it felt almost like a joke, a silly trick to play the part. So, being hired as a butler for the feared head of the Shelby family was honest to God shocking and terrifying. 

The wide windows and open corridors left him in awe as well as the beauty of the barn and the well-kept animals. It was known mister Shelby liked to ride early in the mornings or late past midnight under the deep pitch-black winter. 

The first time the servant saw him, mr. Shelby came back to the manor, his steps maintained his powerful stance even when no one was around to see. Charlie’s nanny had been looking for him as the baby kept calling for the man after waking up and while technically being his job to find him, after all those past weeks, he had no idea where the man could possibly be. 

Soon, he hurried to greet mr. Shelby by the doors with a sharp nod. 

“Charlie has asked for you, mr. Shelby.” The man merely looked with a glint of recognition before storming to find his son. 

Later on, he seemed to find little flashes of the head of the house. 

Some of them were good. Some of them not so much. 

—2—

Hearing the man argue with his aunt was nothing new and still impressive. As he worked in the house, talked to the remain help around it, the cook and the nanny; they all said mr. Shelby was a kept man, stoic and impassive. With a piercing stare that imitated the freezing winter he much so seemed to loathe. 

Some said his glacially sight would melt only in presence of his son. Charlie was the light of his eyes, a beacon in the stormy sea guiding him home the nights his memories sinked him deep and low. Mister Shelby may not hear the resonance of the picks and shovels anymore but still saw them in his sleep. 

The always compose man had a frown on his face, his lips on a thin line only sharing his distaste for the conversation and stating a couple of orders to the other side of the phone, Thomas Shelby hang up with a soundless huff and placed his hand near his eyebrow to ease the increasing nagging pain growing at the back of his head. 

They never got any peace. No one of his family ever got peace. 

The servant moved seamlessly in the room, took the empty glasses and spared a glance at the half full liquor sitting the the bottle by the table at the other side. 

“Your glasses, mister Shelby,” Having the absolute attention of a man such as Shelby was unnerving, nerve-wracking and worrying and at the same time, heated adrenaline and embarrassment made their way to the boy’s cheeks. A young face taintless of horror and despair. 

He left the glasses for the man to hold on top of his desk and took his leave. 

Mister Shelby often forgot the use of his reading glasses as he called them, and soon started to orchestrated a massive migraine that left him moody for hours. 

The servant shortly after discovered keeping a spare of glasses in the office would do magic for him and mostly salvaged whatever was left of his eye-sight. That man surely liked to be left alone in the dark. 

Mr. Shelby accepted the pair of glasses in silent and soon after, lighted up a new cigarette. 

“Dinner will be served promptly, sir.” The boy assured his master even knowingly of being ignored, all those years, he have seen the man work, climb, celebrate, scream and even fuck passing walks of beautiful women, but barely were able to make him eat anything. Not even with his son besides him. He had used the pretense of Charlie when the boy was feeling lonely and missed both father and mother; only then mister Shelby seemed to reach for his boy and comfort him. 

But for that night it didn’t feel like that strategy would work. 

“I won’t be there.” Thomas let him know. “However, you are all free to dine outside the kitchen.” The surprise was cleared in the boy’s eyes, it was such an honor to eat at the table of the family and doing so without the head of said family felt wrong. The young one was about to deny his orders when a piercing cold stared advised him otherwise. “You may tell the others.” 

“Yes, mister Shelby.” 

Dinning at the large table was surreal. The nanny, the cook, one of the maids and him were sitting in display, all surrounding little Charlie who talked and ate happily commenting on how good the supper was for the day. The growing Shelby told stories about his horse, his ridding lessons and even his violin recital that was yet to come. Charlie wished he could invited them all. 

He smiled warmly at the boy sharing the overwhelming sense of care as the other servants of the house, they all loved Charlie. 

“You will be wonderful, Charlie.” The nanny mentioned. 

“And you can always play for us if you want.” Commented the cook with short courage. 

“We will always listen.” He said and retreated after dinner. 

Hours late into midnight, the servant was wandering around from the kitchen, the halls were lonely and quiet, candles around created shadows that guide him and about to head to bed he was when he first heard it. 

Low, quiet, meek whispering, hushed breaths and silent prayers came from the office. A rush of fear traveled down his spine, fear of someone being inside the house, but shortly after unlocking the door he realized it was only mister Shelby. 

The man was resting on the sofa, his coat was hanged on his side and his shoes were neatly placed far from it. Mister Shelby’s features were obscured with memories and ghosts, sweat formed on his forehead as his arms flexed in anger. The boy knelt on the carpet and touched the man heated skin trying to wake him up. 

The response was almost immediately. Muster Shelby rose up in a second, smoothly reached under his arm and pointed a gun at the servants head. 

The distinguished click of the safe being taken off fired up his heart, the boy could hear it running wild in his ears but he stood tall and still, no sign of breathing until Mister Shelby’s gaze focused on him. 

A pair of glazing blue, cold and piercing dilated pupils engraved with long soft looking lashes. Looked down on him leaving him frozen on the spot. Mister Shelby didn’t seem to even blink, placing his eyes on the boy, searching for answers to questions in a wicked curiosity; the man knew what the others thought of him, some feared him, some loved him —and he was strictly thinking about him family and having doubts—, and some other definitely hated him, loathed him and despised him. Even himself, in the deeps of night he would wake up with the sinking feeling of abhor for his persona. 

But at that time, pointing a gun at one of his servants who still looked at his eyes and not the machine capable of killing them, Thomas felt curious for the boy. Shelby released the safe into its rightful place albeit never taking the gun down. 

“What are you doing here?” The boy gradually started to retreat his hands and left them resting on his thighs. 

“You were speaking, sir. Talking in your sleep.” A pregnant silence followed that statement and the younger one feared first time while staying in the manor that he would be hurt in any way. Thomas nodded to himself and lower the gun brushing it slightly to the boy’s face. An innocent touch on his nose to finally rest on his parted lips. The cold feeling of the metal combined with the fleeting smell of powder stirred something within the servant’s blood making him blushed in a fading shade of red. 

All under the watchful eye of the crime Lord. 

A lick of something wickedly dark sparkled his brain to force the boy near the gun one last time by roughly grasping at the back of his head. 

“Do you want to die, Little one?” The warmth pouring from the man’s voice was numbing enough to leave his throat dry. 

“No, sir.” The servant was unable to free himself, not out of absolute fear. He knew who Shelby was, he knew who his boss was, he also knew all the stories about the Peaky Blinders, so, no. He didn’t fear his boss out of his reputation. He feared being disrespectful at any capacity and not being good enough to the man’s eyes. 

“Alright.” At last, Tom left him go although the boy didn’t move. He had a feeling mister Shelby wasn’t doing alright, then again, nobody not eating and not sleeping would be ok in any circumstances. So instead of leaving his boss alone, he stayed. Silently asking for the gun with both palms bare. 

Thomas interest was peaked as he pleased the boy silent request and slowly after was surprised by the skilled hands that disarmed every bullet smoothly and placed them at Thomas’s feet. 

“How do you know how to use it?” Shelby spoke rough and easy aching to have a cigarette on his lips. The boy stood with care and wobbly legs, went to man’s desk and searched for the item his master needed. Mr. Shelby rose up an eyebrow but either way accepted the cigar and the warmth that followed. 

“My Father.” He simply stated. It was no mystery the tells of war and how many families had been torn apart from it. He, himself was about to be shipped away from his crying mother when news broke and thousands of soldiers were send back. He had been a tad too young to be part of it, but was old enough to recognize the signs and tells from it. He could never know what horrors had mister Shelby seen on those lands and he could only imagine. So he told him much. 

“It’s better that you’ll never know.” Thomas groaned as the smoke blurred his face to the boy’s eyes and led him to bed. “Good night, little one.” With an unfamiliar sweetness Tommy left a heavy hand rest on the boy’s soft hair with a brush of warmth forgotten by the time he sat back on his desk. 

“Good night, mister Shelby.” After months of work and sunny days, the servant felt courage to shyly smile at the man before disappearing behind the door. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First we met the Servant. Now we meet the Family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not meant to happen. I was really happy with how chapter one turned out, but last night my brain tortured me with more random ideas and i couldn’t sleep until I started writing.

_** The Family  ** _

—3—

The mansion beamed with eager energy as people came and went up the stairs, down the corridors; there was a family gathering in the making and soon all the Shelby family would be together. It would be the first time the servants of the house will be witness of all of them together. Yes, they knew them and of course, had seen them before but never in fullness. The Shelby’s worked in teams, and pairs, in triads of relentless dedication to business and increasing power. But for one night, the fights would be forgotten, altercations left behind and confrontations moved for another day. Tonight was a night to celebrate. 

It seemed like The Shelby Company was ready to go wide in America, expanding their business, opening other offices and navigating into new markets. 

With a soft know on the door, the servant walked into the office. Mister Shelby sat on his chair drowning in paperwork, his never ending cigar was lighted up and resting between his fingers, but the boy felt pleased to recognize the pair of spectacles on top of the man’s nose. 

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, he spoke. 

“Your family will be here in half an hour, sir.” Shelby groaned in response but that was it. The young boy stood up tall and kept talking. “They are expected to have dinner, sir.” Once again mister Shelby agreed in a loose matter. “Will you be dinning with them, sir?” At last, that simple comment seemed to catch the man’s attention long enough to make him look apart from his documents. 

With relentless dedication the boy fought his fears and stayed in place giving his boss a clear vision of his concerns. They had yet to convince mister Shelby to eat with Charlie, left alone with his whole family. Would there it be necessary to place a plate at the head of the table? Would the Shelby’s eat without Thomas? 

Thomas sighed trying to drive away the tension on his shoulders at the memory of his family in one table but decided to wash the concern from his servants heads. 

Even knowing it would be a waste of time, Thomas agree. “Yes.” The boy nodded and rushed back to finish up. 

The dining room was a vision, a dream or a tale of tales like princess and royalty. The candelabrums shined in sparks of life, the table beautifully dressed in a snow white tablecloth, pristine silverware and opaline glasses refracted the light in different colours. The teasing heat of the kitchen was far from the room but the excitement for a warm meal was never down. Bottles of champagne were opened and chit-chat was all over the place. 

One by one the Shelby’s made an entrance. 

The food was delightful and soon the bubbly sweet beverage was forgotten for something stronger. Charlie was put to bed after playing with his cousins and saying goodbye to all his uncles and aunt; the nanny followed suit with a short reverence. 

The night was young when the Shelby’s decided it was time to talk business and he stood by the door; the servant wasn’t sure he was allowed to stay, it were private matters, however, before he could voice his way out, the younger sister asked for more. 

“Be a darling and serve another glass, would you?” Ada shook his empty glass in the air with a friendly smile. 

“Yes, Miss Shelby.” The girl couldn’t help but show his discomfort at the name and it was all clear in her features. Being called that in business was a given, but after hours, in family company she preferred to be called by her name and her name only. So, she told him much. 

“You don’t have to be formal, love.” She accepted the drink and saluted to his face. “My name is enough.” The boy, first time, looked conflicted as if he wanted to pleased the lady, it was a Shelby after all, but didn’t wanted to loose respect. He was a servant, they were rules and respect was primordial. 

“I apologize, Miss.” He whispered finally conscious of how the rest of the family were watching their interaction. “I cannot do that.” 

“Why is that?” Ada asked promptly, not mad but mostly curious. 

“Miss— I, uhm...” staggering his voice in nervousness, the boy tried to make himself clear although was failing and massively. “I am.. most unable to... can.” Ada laughed opening and without restrictions causing the boy to sober up in flying colours that painted his cheeks and nose. 

“Oh, brother—“ her accent splitting over. “Where on earth did you manage to find this one?” The rest of the family laughed wholeheartedly as he rested back on his post. 

So, for the rest of the night, the Shelby’s made their mission to brake the boy’s formalities. And after a few hours, they almost succeeded. 

Ada, as much to please her, passed from restrictively being name ‘Miss Shelby’ to a ‘Miss Ada’ with casual ring that let her smiling but compromise enough to the boy’s stubbornness to not drop his rightful tone. 

Polly, now. After threatening to mark his pretty face —once again, they laughed at his expenses while his cheekbones blushed with a deep crimson—, felt herself in a win as the boy left to be respectful enough to keep the title but informal enough to call her by her name. And so, Mrs. Polly had another drink. 

The oldest Shelby was the toughest on them so far, as the man kept asking to absolute drop all those fancy words and call him by his bare name. 

“C’mon, lad. I know you can do it.” Arthur told him resting a heavy slap on his back almost making him fall. That was the time where, he couldn’t help but ask for guidance. With a fleeting glance to the man at the end of the table who watch with a heavy stare, he asked permission to fulfill Arthur’s request without being disrespectful. 

Mister Shelby sat impassively on his chair, the smoke slithering from his parted lips while another cigarette filled his lungs with nicotine, the man said nothing blinking slowly. 

Only then, after the boy sweat under his family’s interested eyes, Thomas lifted an eyebrow as if challenging the boy to do as he pleased. 

Challenging to do what? To give in to his brother’s demands? To remain silent and being the target of their banter? To keep his formalities and hang in danger with the possibility of angering any of the family members? What was the right answer? 

“Oi, Tommy!” Arthur called for his brother. “Don’t be a piss and let the poor boy speak.” The poor boy hid his eyes in shame, he never intended to insult his master. “C’mon, boy.” Arthur asked once again. 

“Yes...” He consciously swallowed feeling his lips dry. “Yes, Arthur—“ the family around them cheered happily finally reaching their goal. “—, sir.” Ada huffed and crossed his arms in a mock tantrum. 

“And just for that you’ll get me a new glass.” _Yes, Miss Ada._ The boy nodded openly smiling and rushed to change the woman’s glass that was half empty. Thomas toasted in silence lifting his glass to his sister and hid a short lived smiled that wanted to appear at the corners of his lips. 

—4—

Miss Ada asked for tea after everybody went to sleep so he complaint. Gingerly placing the cup and the kettle, he was about to leave when the girl called his name. 

“Yes, Miss Ada?”

“Would you stay with me for a moment?” Giving a wordless positive answer, the young one came close to the woman and stood with his hands behind his back. “Oh, boy! “Ada almost dropped his cup. “Would you sit down already!” Flustered acceptance of his permission to sit with the girl, the servant spoke a soft apology, he was not used to being treated with such familiarity. He had been working in the manor for years now and even thou everybody was polite and nice and friendly with each other, there were certain things that were never meant to happen such as sitting with their masters. 

“But I’m not your master.” Ada left his concerns to be blown away as she wanted a simple and honest conversation that didn’t involved her brothers, her family or their business. 

“Alright, miss.” He stated in confidence. “What would you like to talk about?” That’s how Ada learned about his family, about his childhood and the town he used to live. 

The boy’s father was sent away to the Great War and for years they didn’t know any good news, all their neighbors became widows and orphans and those long sleepless night took a life from his mother. 

By the time his father came back, they were all ecstatic until they realized the man had come back from war but the war hadn’t let him go. 

His father may have come back but in reality he never came back. So one day, after a younger version of himself was sent to school, his father had gone out, walked to their garden and shot himself with his gun for his poor mother to find him in a pool of blood with a disfigured face. 

His mother’s life was short lived after that. She couldn’t bare the thought of existing without his beloved and soon her health decayed. She died shortly of a broken heart no matter how much he cared for her. That’s why he left his home town, said goodbye to his parents and sailed for adventure knowing that they were together and happy once more; he hadn’t given religion much thought but he liked to think his parents watched over him. 

He finished his story with a wobbly smiled before panic painted in his face due to Ada’s tears running down her cheeks. 

“Oh, no! Miss Ada, please.” He fussed over her scared and terrified. “Please, don’t cry! I’ll do anything, just please!” 

“You, silly boy.” Ada cleaned her face and tucked the boy into an awkward hug by the time he stayed half kneeling in front of her. “You suffered so much and you’re still worrying over me.” 

“But, Miss—“

“Hush now, just let me.” Uncomfortable and odd feeling the servant stayed in his master sister’s arms receiving comfort like no other in such a long time. He sent silent prayers of gratitude. 

Neither paying attention of the shadowy figure at the door threshold. 

After guiding Ada to his room and promising to her that he was in fact living a good life under her treacherous, devilish tyranny of brother, the woman left to sleep. 

The servant finally felt how truly exhausted he was, long hours of working flying away in awe, music, conversation and laughter. He only wanted to go to his room and pass out for a few hours before it was time to get on his feet once again. And so close to his goal he was until he was intercepted by Polly. 

Mrs. Polly was dressed down, forgotten the beautiful outfits were to be lived in a casual sleepwear, a long satin undergarment in a pale green with details in black, her face clean of make up shine by the moonlight. She was a dream. 

The woman sultry walked until she faced him and smiled luxuriously with all the power she had. 

“I’m surprised to see you up, boy.” There was something in her tone that left him uncomfortable, effaced was the easy mocking tone from the evening, now Polly seemed to denigrate him with even her looks. 

The woman has seen and witness the silent conversation this unknown boy had had with her nephew and only served to race her alarms after catching the pleased and satisfied air Thomas portrayed the rest of the evening. Her nephew usually had two thoughts in mind: business and mindless fucking, and even the later was used as a way to achieved what he wanted, so the woman questioned herself, and an answer she would get. 

It wasn’t difficult to trap the boy into her body and one of the tables at the living room, the open space was perfect, anybody could see. 

“Missus—“ The low tone reached Polly with tint of desperation, it was clear to the woman that the poor boy would fly away the moment he could, but she wasn’t letting him go until her doubts were settle. Polly smiled long and languid, caressed the servant’s scared face with her fingertips until she reached for his clothesline in top of his belt. 

The servant was mortified, he could reassured he was shaking like leaves in autumn while mrs Polly had her fun; he didn’t understand what the woman was after but he honestly prayed she would stop. 

“Tonight, boy...” Polly came close enough for the servant to feel her warm breath. “You will serve me.” A switch was off on his brain, did missus Polly needed something outside of the obvious attempts which he in oblivious tried to surpass. 

“Mrs. Polly, if you need anything I’ll try my best to serve you.” The woman frowned not quiet pleased with the servant’s reaction; if she was in the rights then the boy wouldn’t survive working for her nephew. A pretty boy to keep his bed warm wouldn’t go far in the world, even thou, there were rare cases, such as Lizzie. 

“Oh, darling...” her voice crawling down the boy’s spine send chills not quiet pleasant. “There’s much you can do.” Polly went for the boy’s trousers and the young one yelped looking to escape her advances. “You will serve me well in the sheets.” Polly could almost laugh at the boy expenses, his reactions were too pure and innocent-like to not to play with, it would be both a delight and shame if he surrendered. 

“Mrs. Shelby—“ the younger one angry whispered as his voice when a pitch high, in a bold flustered move, the servant touch Polly’s wrists and smoothed his way out. “I apologize for my actions ma’am but this is something I cannot do.” The boy seemed afraid while he gather himself in a thought hug and for moments Polly felt bad for deceiving the young one. “If that is something you need, I’ll search for someone but that is some I won’t do.” The boy gather up his courage and stared down at the woman with fierce determination that made her feel proud —now she understood her nephew—. “Mrs. Shelby, I am not a whore.” The secret hatred with which the boy talked to her flailed some thoughts. But she still pushed him farther. 

“You might not be, darling. But under the Peaky Blinders, if that’s what they want, that’s what you’ll be.”

“I do not serve the Peaky Blinders, ma’am.” Finally seeing a way out, the servant rushed down the hall, almost running as he thought was far enough from the woman and hid in the first door he came close. Polly saw him leave with a satisfied feeling. 

The poor boy felt like crying. None in his years of service he had been put into such position. He worked hard, he served well, kept his eyes close and ears shut when business were to be discuss; he tried his best to meet mister Shelby’s necessities but never he imagine he would be ask for something in that capacity. 

His hands started to tremble as the embarrassment and shame began to grow in his belly. His heart raced in his chest, loud and clear to his ears and his mind was all over the place. 

Had he done something wrong? Had the family gather that impression from him? Did everybody share the same thoughts of Mrs. Shelby? Did Mister Shelby had the same thoughts? Had he embarrassed his master in front of his family? He wanted to cry in all honesty, silliness and need for comfort. He began to talk to himself out loud trying to wash away the anger and mortification, the pain and shame the whole ordeal had caused him. 

The boy leaned onto the door feeling the cold touch in his forehead and started to speak. 

“You are not that. You are not what they said you were. You are a good servant. You do good. You are not a whore. No matter what they say, you are not a whore.” _You’re not. You’re not. You’re not a whore._ Memories of past pain came to life. A friend of his had suffered from the same sorrow as the people from town started to repel her for bringing a child to this world outside of a healthy marriage. She was known as the Old Town Whore. 

She left one day with her daughter and he never saw her again. 

“You’re not a whore.” 

“Who says you’re a whore?” The ring of mr. Shelby’s voice at the other side of the room was an unpleasant and absolute unexpected plus terrifying; in his hurry and shame he had not seen where he was heading. The servant turned surprised as if being caught doing something ilegal. Jumping out in his spot, the boy looked at his master with every inch of shame while questioning if anyone in that _bloody_ family ever slept at regular hours. Finding each member of the Shelby’s family at late hours was not good for his nerves. “And well?” Mr. Shelby was know for his short temper regardless to patience making it obvious in his features. 

The impression was such, they boy thought he would pass out in pure panic, his master could read him like an open book. Mister Shelby sat in silence waiting for his young servant to speak while they boy seemed troubled with each passing second. The young one was about to cry if his eyes weren’t tricking him, and Thomas didn’t relish on that sight at all. Who had caused the boy deep discomfort? 

“Tell me, little one, what’s wrong?” As if being relief from his sorrows, the boy talked and talked non-stop by his thoughts of the evening, how he worked hard and hoped his family hadn’t taken a wrong impression of his persona. He wanted to believe he was good but after being cornered in the looming, deserted halls, the boy feared the worst. 

“I swear, mr. Shelby— I didn’t mean to... I only tried to do my job." The boy started to heave. “Sir, I swear, I would never... I never intended to... I’m not—“ finally a lonely tear fell down his cheek. “Sir, please, believe me, I’m not— I’m not _**that**_.” In his own innocence, Shelby noted, the boy wasn’t even able to call himself a whore. 

The servant in his share discomfort hadn’t realized mister Shelby was close. Long forgotten was his seat at his desk in the center of the room and slowly, soundlessly started to reach out to him. The boy was only conscious after feeling Thomas’ flexed index finger brushing against his wet cheek and watching how the man cleaned the salt away with his lips. 

“Tell me. What did they say?” The order was clear. Thomas already had a fair idea onto who could be the perpetrator but he wanted to hear from his servant first. 

“I had to serve in someone’s sheet... by order of the Peaky Blinders.” The little one’s lower lip trembled in humiliation, his cheeks fired up like a beacon in the midnight sky. Thomas was glad the boy had sheltered his gaze back down so he wouldn’t see the amused smirk his master was sporting at the time. 

“And what did you say to that?” The boy stilled himself for a short while and Thomas inquired if they had finally broke the poor mind, when his boy impressed him once again with a share of honest devotion. 

Meeting his master’s piercing eyes, feeling his own knees shake through the force he was using to keep it together, he spoke with conviction that characterized him. 

“I do not serve the Peaky Blinders, sir.” The young one took a sharp breath before continuing his short speech. “I am a servant of the Shelby Household Manor and so, I serve the Shelby’s family, I am at service to you, sir. I serve the head of the family, Thomas Shelby.” In the heated spur of the moment he forgot to mind his words, the young one has never said his master’s voice out loud nor even in confidence, and some how that idea filled Thomas with warm delighted joy. It felt good to see his servants passion. 

The shared a quiet moment, seconds before the young one came to notice what he had done. An undignified feeling washed over the servant and lower his head hiding his gaze from the man; it was obvious his guilt to the man. 

“Look at me.” The mister said in a low tone an slight distortion of his strong will and demanding stance. The boy refused by shaking his head and Tommy wanted nothing but to hit him light at the back of the head. “I said... Look at me, little one.” Finding Thomas clear eyes was a shock like no other; it wasn’t new to see his master but it felt like it he was under a different light. Something closer, warmer. 

“It’s alright.” Thomas peaked a ghost smile so the boy could see. “You did good, little one.” Brushing his cheek one more time, Tommy lightly touch the boy’s chin and soon the heavy atmosphere fade away. Repeating his reassuring words, Tommy let the boy go. 

“You did good.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've met The Servant. We've seen The Family. Now is time for The Master to be present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The begining scene is the reason why i even started writing part two, but after i finish it, i didn't feel like ending the whole story with such a bloody end and a bad punch line, so instead i made a bonus chapther for this story that seemed to grow by its own.

_Bonus_

**_The Master_ **

—5—

There was blood on the carpet.

There was. So. Much. Blood.

Everywhere. Everywhere he looked, he could see the vicious, sticky colour blooming around the house, the walls; there was a trail of crimson red following his steps combined with shattered glass in a path of destruction, the servant soundlessly walked, relentless, non-stopping and with only one goal in mind until he stood cold in the middle of the empty office, half seated on top of the desk while embracing a silent Charlie who refused to let him go as his tiny fists had an iron grip on his clothes.

He has never seen hell but after a night like the one they just had, the young boy had an idea, a though that maybe this was what hell looked like. Aching limbs, dry throat and broken lips, torn muscles for the continue used and a rising mind with no time for a break, for fresh air and calmness. The servant boy had only one goal in mind and with all his might he would achieved it.

The boy was able to hear the voices approaching. Loud and clear they came as the doors opened up letting through a couple of people he didn’t know, although, by the likes of it seemed as the newcomers were part of the Peaky Blinders, if he had to judge their appearances.

A double pair of eyes set on the shivering boy and started to scream at him once they recognized the quiet shape of Charlie resting in his arms.

“We found him!” One of the boys shouted at whoever was standing by the hall. However, no sense of security it came from the view, he didn’t recognize any of the faces coming toward him. “Boy—” it was cleared by now that those men didn’t knew him either and so did not trust him with having Charlie in his grasp. “You betta give me the child.” Their words were thick with hatred that the boy was not used to hear, no less in his place of work such as the Shelby Household Manor where he got accustomed to listen to Charlie’s laugh at any time of the day.

The boy was about to move when a still frighten Charlie hugged him harder and so in his need to comfort the child, the servant retracted shielding the youngest Shelby from the strangers.

“Listen ‘ere you motherfuck’r…” the Peaky boys started to close onto the servant, trapping him into the desk and by doing so sending Charlie into a frenzy of whips that sent shivers down their spines. The mere thought of their boss finding his son crying was absolute not pleasing even when the man was no way around. “Give me the child.” The tread was made and gun soon followed.

Something broke within him. Who could aim to a baby?

The servant hugged Charlie hiding the child’s face to his neck and yelled.

“Stay away from me!” The adrenaline flooding through his body was burning and busting, his sense of fight or flight was back even when his brain told him it was safe to stay with the Peaky Blinders. They were looking for Charlie after all, they would bring Charlie to his father, the servant knew that, the servant wanted to believe that; but it was, in fact, that belief that led them all to that faithful night of horrors. Someone had passed off as a Peaky boy and tried to Charlie away while his father was gone.

So, no. The young boy could not trust those man. He would not trust those man. He would fight with nails and teeth to protect Charlie until mister Shelby came for the boy.

“LISTEN YOU LIL BITCH—” The obvious threat was forgotten as the servant shot the gun he had in his trembling hand at the unknown gang member. The noise itself was enough to stir something dark and scary. He failed, the young boy was by no means good with guns, he didn’t even have a good aim when playing ball with Charles, but his message was known. If any of them came close to Charlie, they would get a bullet. The Peaky boys were not expecting such a harsh reaction, it was only a scrawny boy, bit tall for his age, with marks and bruises all over his face and disheveled clothes. What harm could the lonely boy do?

Now, they knew.

Nobody moved and Charlie had time to calm down when Arthur came in bursting into the door, his voice loud and clear with orders.

“What the fuck in going on here?” He had heard the gunshot and ran as fast as he could, fearing the worst, when a sheer of light crossed his features. Arthur recognized the darken face that was staring at him in fear and horror. Arthur knew that boy, he knew this servant.

Arthur said his name with a sweet gentleness unknown to others and ordered for the rest of the boys to lower their guns in a silent gesture.

“C’mon now, boy. You know me.” The servant was still tilting the gun at the newcomers before realizing who was talking to him. It was one of the Shelby brothers. It was one of his master’s brothers, the servant knew he could trust this man with his life such as Mister Shelby did.

“Arthur, sir.” The hint of formality even after such a hectic night and moments made Arthur laugh against his best judgement.

“Yes, boy. It’s me.” Arthur smiled looking at the servant boy while relaxing his shoulders. “Good ol’ Arthur.” The young one wanted to smile in return when Charlie turned in his arms and called for his father.

“Sir—” His frighten demeanor and worry was obvious even for the usual clueless Arthur. “Mister Shelby…” The boy didn’t need to finish his request when the oldest Shelby let him know that Tommy was on his way.

 _It’s alright, Charlie. It’s alright, baby. You’re ok now. You’re all good._ He had said to the crying boy as he ran for their lives escaping whoever was after them. The young servant was out doing his usual runs around the manor, locking doors and checking windows when he found an open window thanks to the waving curtains that moved by the tune of the summer wind. Closing it, double checking and turning off the lights, he left and while he was about to go upstairs, he spotted an obscure figure holding a struggling Charlie. Charlie was meant to be put to sleep long hours ago, and Anna had bed him good night respectfully, so that raised a bunch of questions, starting with: Where was Anna?

Anna rested lifeless by a man’s feet.

He had run to Charlie with unknown force to himself, pure panic flood through him while imagining the worst, Charlie called for him and he knew then he wouldn’t trust that man.

Now, still standing in Mr. Shelby’s office with a nervous Arthur trying to calm him down and putting the rest of the boys to a hold while waiting for Tom.

“Tommy’s coming, Charlie.” Arthur reassured his nephew and he could see how the boy calmed after hearing about his father. Soon, shouts were heard. The distinguished voice of one and only Thomas Shelby was hard to miss, the man cried for his baby boy bearing his gun at anyone who dare to cross path with him.

“You hear that, Charlie?” The young one spoke with a tired, raspy voice catching the baby’s attention. “That’s daddy. Daddy’s coming to get you.”

The have both hid in one of the rooms. The servant fought the intruder with a fearless conviction, his need to save the youngest of the family was deep in his bones surpassing his non-existent skills or his lack of knowledge. With angry fists and sharp nails, he hit the man and scratch his face, kicked him between the legs just how mister Shelby had taught him once as he begged for Charlie to go, to hide away but the stubborn boy stood close by crying for him until the kidnapper seemed unconscious enough so they could leave together.

Charlie had whimpered against his clothes and when he went to hug the boy, he realized he was covered in blood. Not his blood, but still. Anna’s blood. The man had shot her after she had tried to elude him and by doing so saving Charlie from getting hurt, dropping him to the floor. The servant took his vest off staying in his shirt only and cleaned Charlie’s face from all trail of heaviness.

“I want daddy.” Charlie had said to him before they tried and looked for a way out. The servant could hear voices looking for them, it seemed someone had planned to attack the house while the head of the family was out doing business for the night. Tommy had left with a short smile and a warm touch Charlie still remembered, his father had promised to spent time with him on the weekend after a long week of work and he was looking forward to it. Charlie had been practicing his violin lessons by playing in front of the servants and other people in the house.

They all compliment him and Charlie only hoped his father would also like it. He had practiced hard all week until the tip of his fingers hurt.

The boy looked at the Shelby child and promised him, they would see his father. He would do everything in his power and would not stop until Charlie was with his father again.

“Don’t worry, Charlie. Daddy’s gonna come for you. Daddy will always come for you.” Little did the boy know, Tommy would search for them both in an equal fiercely need. “You’ll see daddy soon.”

Also, the young one didn’t know how close they would be to find the head of the family.

After hiding in mister Shelby’s office, the boy took the gun he knew Thomas kept in his desk and waited. The voices were long gone as guns were fired, screams and sheers of pain were heard, and an eerie calmness took over. A stillness proper of disaster was approaching and somehow he feared the worst, but what they got were waves of another Peaky Blinders lookalike right before Arthur showed up.

Arthur kept to himself imitating a guardian dog as the young servant whispered to Charlie in anticipation to meeting his father once again, the child held the comforting body of the servant before shrugging at the sound of the door bursting one more time.

Mister Shelby was a mess, to say the least, long forgotten was his pristine suit. The jacket was lost and even when his shirt was still bottom up, it was all wrinkled, the shoulder holster was visible, the shiny straps wide in the open and while his gun was still warm in his hand, the young one couldn’t help but shield Charlie’s view to the bath of blood that was his father, even for a little. Tommy was covered in blood. Both his shoulders were splashed as well as his chest. But what shocked him was mister Shelby’s face.

Thomas’ high cheeks were covered almost completely, barely any spots were left untouched; his forehead had a big stain right in the middle with moving lines that painted him as he walked and moved, the young one didn’t even fathom to imagine how mister Shelby could have gotten blood in his ears and so his lips. His piercing steel blue eyes and his red right hand supporting his warm gun was truly a sight to behold. His expression was wild and non-centered, Thomas was loosing his mind at the thought of loosing his baby boy, the only truthful memory and gift from his long lost wife. So, of course, he had butchered every single one of the people behind that disastrous plan and sent Arthur back to the manor after a tortured man told the true and how the original idea was to take Charlie from his bed that night. Only they hadn’t count with a feisty little thing who fought for Charlie with his life.

Seeing Charlie after being lost in sorrows for so long was like a waterfall of happiness had bath him in peace. His baby boy seemed held together and in one piece, sheltered between protective arms that refuse to leave him alone even after Tom was in the room.

Thomas stood near the door, he could see and hear how the fearful boy whispered to his baby trying to calm him and easily managed to do so. Charlie trusted the boy holding him and so Tommy’s heart was set. Mister Shelby gave Arthur his gun and walked pass him reaching for his son, only to be shock by a sense of cold surprise as the servant dodge him in terror. Tommy felt denied, he felt rejected and almost screamed in need to hold his son and take it away from any harm but soon understood that his baby was in no danger as Charlie melted in the boy’s embrace.

The young one kept whispering slowly not really realizing mister Shelby was in the room, his brain was high-wired in horror, and the only reason he was still in place was because he knew Arthur was close by and the man wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Tommy cleaned his hands and half kneeled trying to relax, showing the boy he had nothing to be scared for; tilting his head to a side, Tommy called the boy by his name like so little times he had done in the past.

The ring of his name awaken him from his lethargic stupor and in his eyes was clear the surprise to be so close to his master. The servant boy straightened his back and met his master eyes with a pinch of uneasiness, as if fearing he had failed mister Shelby and so, the man would be mad in any way. Thou, he had. He had failed to keep the house safe even with the non-spoken protection of the Peaky Blinders, enemies had managed to enter the house and were almost successful in taking Charlie away from them, away from his family. He had failed Tommy and Charlie almost suffered from it. The boy was about to cry.

Tommy could see the boy’s distress even for moments he thought it was caused by something else. His house was a disaster, chaos and violence was a path he knew very well but had worked so damn hard to keep his son apart form and even the ones that lived with him at the manor. Now, he could see he had been sloppy, Tommy thought by now people would not try and threaten his family, his family name had a price, a status, a terrifying power that only fools would try to break; and there were fools who had tried, he could see it now. Having a couple of Peaky Blinders posting as guards hadn’t been enough for the night and his family had suffered the price for his lack of meticulousness, but no more. He was home now and he would make it all alright.

“Little one…” He called one more time and finally had a reaction from the boy. Tommy could see the boy trembling harder than leaves in winter and with each passing second where he detailed the younger’s appearance, he could see trails of anger, violence and hatred all over his body. His boy lacked his usual clothes and noticed Charlie was missing clothes also, his boy’s hands that still grasped onto Charlie with almost paternal feistiness were splotched with blood being washed away from past struggles. His hair was all over the place but it served a purposed to show him how much his servant had been rough out. His boy had a black eye, cuts all over his face and a nurturing bruise on one of his cheeks, blossoming marks around his neck with a split lip that had stopped bleeding a while back and it only made Tommy ached. Ached for not being there and staying to protect what mattered to him, to keep and safe from harm everything that was important to him. Tommy moved narrowly so after the boy shifted to show his body and his son.

“Mister Shelby…” His voice was low and raspy, missing every little tint of happiness Tommy learnt to love with time. Charlie jumped from his arms to his father with need and shame, the baby started crying; Charlie had been so brave, stood still in silence and seemly unfazed waited for the moment he was reunited with Tom. “They killed her, sir.” The boy mentioned Anna with hollow eyes and Thomas remembered the cold body laying by the stairs lamenting his boys had to be witness of something like that; they had to take care of her family and give a proper burrier. The younger one felt finally at ease and about to give the man a smile he was when his legs failed him after all and almost fell back.

Tommy reached out for him and the boy calmed his nerves by smiling openly with an unknown warmth. That’s it until his senses fully recovered and the realization of his actions hit him harder than a brick. He had shot one of the Peaky Blinders, he had almost killed someone and doesn’t even want to start asking what was about the man he left unconscious in the living room, but yes, he had fired a gun and there was a mark on the floor. 

“Mister Shelby,” the concern was clear as air. There was a gunshot on the floor. And so much blood everywhere. “I’m sorry…” Tommy arched an eyebrow unsure of what would leave his servant’s lips. “There’s blood on the carpets.”

The head of the Shelby family laughed wholeheartedly after so long.

“Sweetheart, you just save my son. I don’t care about the bloody carpets.”

—6—

Tommy played dead. Charlie was resting in his arms as the boy refused to leave his father sight and protective embrace, so the father didn’t want to disrupt his baby’s sleep even when his own mind was thinking, planning and webbing; Charlie curled into his chest and in a mere thought Tommy held him by placing a careful hand on top of his head.

“Daddy,” Charlie still spoke in whispers and low murmurs as in fearing he would be heard and someone would finally come to get him away from home.

“Yes, love?” Tommy kissed his son’s forehead and started at him, letting him know he had his whole attention.

“Can we go?” Where? Tommy wanted to ask but with one look at his son, he knew where the boy longed to be at those moments, even after that long day and tiresome hours, even resting assure in his father’s arms, Charlie still worried for the young boy who kept him safe all this time.

The knock on his door startled him making the boy jump only remaining calm when the known figure of a sleepy Charlie was able to his eyes.

“Charlie? What are you—” his half question wasn’t answer when he saw Tommy going into his room following the steps of his son who had him by the hand. “Mister Shelby!” With a gesture Tommy let him stayed in his sit, half laying on the bed.

The servant didn’t have time to focus on the bizarre feeling that was having his boss in his room when Charlie asked if they could sleep with him that night. “You, what?” Tommy hid an amuse smirk and let Charlie asked for what he wanted that moment.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” The boy was so confused as to why the poor boy wanted to be with him at those hours, he had his father after all, why go for him? “I’m scared someone will take you away.” Charlie confessed after a while and the young servant felt his heart breaking; Charlie had lost so much already; he didn’t want for more people to leave his life.

“It’s alright, love. You can stay here.” Unknown to the servant was how mister Shelby called his son in private but it was a pleasant surprise for Tommy to discover, they both called Charlie the same to reassure him their love and affection. Charlie jumped to the bed and hid under the covers trapping the young one to the wall, only to reappear when he realized his father wasn’t there with him.

“Dad?” Now was the time for the young boy to look mortified while mister Shelby look his old impassive self, as if his own son inviting him to another’s bed was the normal thing to do.

“You go to sleep, Charlie.” Tommy sat near the bed and lighted a cigarette, flicking the light in front of his eyes. He stayed with his back to the wall watching as mister Shelby smoked slowly, dragging every breath and enjoying the peace and quiet. When Tom didn’t say anything else, the boy awkwardly went back to bed, joining Charlie between the sheets; with his head on the pillow, the three of them shared a moment in silent.

Charlie fell asleep short after, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him and the Shelby boy drifted away in dreams with sweet gurgling, holding onto the servant with a hand. The young one played with Charlie’s hair until he felt the baby stopped being worried and was left to rest.

He felt himself falling asleep with the combined scent of diluted Tabaco and the passing cologne of Tommy with the dying spark of the cigar that slowly began to be extinguished, by then, Tommy sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his servant boy’s hair.

“Sleep now, little one.” Tommy began to played with his hair imitating what he had done for Charlie hours prior. “You’re safe now, so sleep.”

“Thank you, sir.” He was so grateful for his master, for showing he cared, he appreciated all of them and every person working for him, but specially those taking care of his family. “Thank you.”

_Thank you for coming back for me._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing's wrong. There's only sweetness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can take this as the original bonus, because while i was doing some research for a new story this idea got stuck in my head, it seems like the Shelby House won't let us go just yet.

_Leisure_

**Bonus #2**

_—7—_

His presence was easily known by the man even with his eyes closed. The Shelby’s stayed outdoors for the clear and cloudy mornings were the weather wasn’t freezing. He walked with a slow pace and soon rested his tray on top of the table and while the young servant served the seemly napping Shelby, he could hear the easy, happy giggles from Charlie who was riding his new horse with mister Johnny. The fading clicking sound of the teacup alerted Tommy enough to tilt his head and looked at his servant. In response, the young one smiled brightly and gave the man a cup of warm black tea, it lacked sugar and milk and would never come close to the comfort Tommy felt from whiskey, but the head of the house found himself willing enough to at least indulge his servant into healthier beverages, at least, in the mornings. Later on, would said servant reach out for a bottle and a shiny glass to please his master.

Tommy accepted the cup with a soft lingering touch. Their relationship had grown in the long passing nights turned spring with the breeze of fresh air and blooming of flowers; Tommy was drawn to small, comforting touches that reassured him, his boy was alright. A brush of fingertips when delivering, short glazes in a room full of people, a fleeting hand on a shoulder for a request or the ghost transitory feeling of knuckles behind his back after leaving a room. Mister Shelby’s grown affection was not overbearing but always welcome, it made the boy feel safe. The boy was about to give Tommy another cigarette when Charlie demanded their attention.

Charlie was running toward them, they could hear him as the youngest Shelby scream for his father and later on for the boy standing besides him; Charlie had grown close to the boy to the point where he would only listen to the servant opposite to his father, the rest of the Shelby’s fought over that fact but also loved to tease the poor boy who flustered in shame, muttering apologies. In Charles’ eyes he was part of his family and the Shelby’s not only knew it but accepted as well. Charlie rested in his father’s arms only to beg moments after to be put on the boy’s arms later, even if he was growing tall for the touch to be comforting anymore, Charlie was never denied in cares.

“Dad! I’m able to ride the whole course.” Charlie informed showing his proud smile. The boy had been struggling to stay on his horse long enough to finish his ride around the stables, the animal is not wild but restless, listens to Charlie with a sharp intelligence that only makes Tommy glad but between his boy’s eagerness and the horse’s need to move freely, they have a lot to work on yet. “You should come ride with us.” Charlie said the servant making Tommy have a sip from his tea and wait for a positive answer. The boy smiled not reaching his eyes and shook his head no.

“I don’t ride.” Charlie instead of being sad from that statement looked more perplexed.

“Why?” By now, Tommy’s curiosity was peaked, he didn’t know the answer either.

“I don’t know how to ride a horse.”

And so, of course, that meant both Shelby’s were on their way to teach him how to be on a horse. They didn’t use Charlie’s horse, the poor boy still getting used to Charlie’s way to put him through all that all over again with another person. No, Tommy used one of his own, one horse he used to ride but not for the races, one of the couple he thought truly keeping for himself and finally doing so. The servant followed in awe as his master rode the animal with grace and expertise. Thomas came close to dismount the beast and walked guiding him by the hand so his servant could have a better look. The boy looked strangely afraid and Tommy had to ask.

“Are you alright?” The boy nodded fast and short but Tom was not convinced. Thomas held a hand for his young boy and waited until said boy was braved enough to comply. He could feel the younger one trembling hand.

“I’m scared of horses.” The young one confessed feeling silly for showing such fear in front of a man who could tame them in a heartbeat. Thomas hid a smile for the honesty in his boy’s words and shook his head resting importance to those words, there was nothing wrong with the boy for showing his fears and concerns. Tommy led him to animal and made him touch it first.

“It’s ok, love. He won’t hurt you. All you have to do is know him.” The young boy blushed feeling embarrassed at the dotting manner mister Shelby had, it was not common but not do far fetch and still made him feel odd. The sweet kindness and the share comfort was something he had troubles getting used to, however, mister Shelby never called him on it.   
The boy touched the horse’s head and slowly caressed feeling the smoothness of its fur shinning in the morning sun, the animal seemed to catch on his uneasiness and stood still as if waiting to be inspected. 

“Hello, beautiful.” The boy continued to feel the horse, slowly getting accustomed as the animal waited and watched, looking pleased to be pampered.

They kept walking around discovering each other under Tommy’s watchful eyes, never he left the servant alone even when Charlie wanted his attention, wanted to play and also ride. Johnny came close after hours stating Tommy was needed in a family meeting. Charlie walked with him by his hand and Tommy on the other side as plans were made for more mornings to come.

_—8—_

The afternoon sun was dying behind their backs. The young servant had had troubles finding his way and footing closer to the horse but both animal and owner had been patience with his fears, shaky limbs and concerns; by now, the young boy could sit with a saddle on, the first tries had been without one and the boy joked about being a gypsy superstition for his master but after the cold overpowering stared he had for doubting the man’s belief, servant stayed silent accepting his order. Mister Shelby took pity of him and his seemly sadness at not believing his master’s intentions.

“I told you before. You have to know him.” Tommy said placing a comforting hand on his back, low enough to reach the boy’s waist. “If you use a seat right from the beginning, he won’t trust you.” He drank his master’s words and relaxed his shoulders, his whole body turned to the man as his expression let away all his secrets _. I’ll trust you no matter what._

He could not lie, the feeling was odd, after struggling to stay on the horse without a saddle, now that he had one —even knowing it should help him now—, he found himself thinking it felt way better being without it. Tommy as if sensing his train of thoughts laughed at his back. For moments, the boy forgot how close they where, mister Shelby convinced him to take a detour as he controlled the horse, riding next to Johnny and Charlie; the young Shelby had been static to know he could keep up with his riding by now, after weeks of practice and a couple of jump scares when he lost control.

The servant boy had fallen not many occasions but one was too many for Thomas’ heart. The Shelby had gone mad in pain seeing how the fragile body of his boy flied seconds before reaching ground with a dry sound, luckily the scared animal had run away from the lying body instead of causing more pain. Tommy had screamed his name in shock and held him in his arms checking he was, in fact, free from harm. The servant was disoriented and his lungs screamed internally for air, but other than bruises, the boy was fine. He had tried to convinced mister Shelby he was ok to walk but the man had refused to let him go, deciding to hold in in his arms and walked all the way back to the house in a steady pace.

He came back to his senses with the strong feeling of Tom’s arms flexing underneath his weight, his warm breath and the beating heart that claimed the servant as his one desire, and the whispering of his master asking whatever deity he believed for the boy to be ok. Needless to say, Charlie stood by his side all night after he went to sleep. What the boy wasn’t sure it was a sleepy dream or a blurry reality was the touch of Tommy’s dry lips on his forehead as he bedded goodnight and a promise of never letting anything happen to him again.

Taking a ride in the afternoons had become a new hobby for the family, Johnny took Charlie while Tommy rode with him, usually letting him practice by taking a hold on the animal and with each passing day, the boy seemed to be getting only better, Charlie used to ask for the servant to ride with him on the way back but Tommy found himself missing the comforting warmth his boy gave to his chest. It was on one of those rides back home where Tommy felt bold enough to make a move.   
Feeling the boy shiver due to cold breeze, Tommy made him stay closer, covering him with his coat, he felt the boy melt in his touch and soon, talked in murmurs low enough to make him tremble in a new sense of anticipation. The careful touch of Tommy’s hand through his back, all the way until it rested on his waist, spoke of promises to come.

The slow and smooth steps of the horse only served to make more prominent the sensual touch as they moved as one and finally stood in front of the barn, the sky tainted with dark orange and fading reds. The boy moaned after Tommy left his hands rest on top of the other’s thighs, giving him the freedom to decided, the boy could move away, take Tom’s hands aside and any thought would be forgotten with the sleeping sun, or could let Tommy invaded him forever, made a home for himself within and live under his skin.

Tommy didn’t even try to hide his smirk when his boy’s cheeks lighted in crimson but surprisingly so, his boy retaliated with a kiss.

An innocent touch that connected their lips in a simple brush and took both of their breaths away. Giving Tommy the taste of something so sweet and pure. And _his._

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not truly familiar with the show and self inserted stories so please forgive any inaccuracies. I tried my best to give Tommy some peace.


End file.
